


Sacred Siren

by SocialDisease609



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, I don't know what the citizen term is for the locations so forgive me, I haven't decided if Elsa has powers or not, I just watched the second film like three hours ago, I know I KNOW, I know nothing about the Frozen universe, I remember basically nothing about the first one, Soulmates AU, this is an impulse fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22473928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDisease609/pseuds/SocialDisease609
Summary: I've committed sacrilege by stealing the Calling Elsa hears. It comes from Honeymaren in this fic, because the lyrics were kinda romantic to me and tumblr made me think they had a lot of scenes so I went into the movie thinking I'd find some heavy stuff, and then it was revealed to be her mom's voice and like... it's Terminator all over again lmao ("I'm spoken for I fear" like, really??! lol)Anyway, SOULMATES AU! Arendelle has rejected magic generations ago, and no longer benefits from it, especially culturally. Northuldra on the other hand, still respects magic, and are gifted with soulmates- who you must find by calling out to them in the enchanted forest. Honeymaren is a little dejected and worried, having spent years calling out and yet meeting no one. Until one late night, that is...
Relationships: Elsa & Honeymaren (Disney), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 190





	1. # Like Old Mythology

**Author's Note:**

> This AU has no magical or physical barrier separating the two communities, but they are on sensitive (if not negative) terms with each other due to the old relations set from the days of Elsa and Anna's grandfather's military campaigns. So both communities don't really like each other too much. 
> 
> Also, don't know if there is a pantheon in the Frozen world or not, but that's the beauty of AUs!

Arendelle had long abandoned the Old Gods, content in a life without magic. A life of their own choosing and guidance. Hardly any remembered what life was like with it, many generations born having never known it. 

Northuldra still burned incense and pine at their alters, secluded in their enchanted forest. Still paid respect to the invisible force they shared the earth with. In return for their faithfulness, magic lived among them. Magic thrived, yet not in the grasps of mortal hands, but in the actions of undoubtable miracles, and in the guidance of souls. 

The Northuldra only got to directly manipulate magic in the latter case. The calling of soulmates, a rite of passage Arendelle had lost with their abandoning of magic. When of age, the young Northuldra would travel deep into the forest, alone, and call out to their soulmate. The magic would carry their voice on the wind, the melody flowing into the ears of their soulmate, no matter the distance. 

_Come to me._

_Find me._

There were so many melodies saturating the woods, resonating and echoing with the trailing leaves like the magical choir of wood elves, young lovers coming closer and closer and closer together, until the found the source of the melody that haunted them. 

Except for Honeymaren. 

She tried not to feel troubled about it, but she was in her twenties now, and no one ever came answering her call. Everyone she grew up with, all her peers, had found their destined love years ago. There was a new crowd of tribe members serenading in the woods these days, all freshly sixteen, a few worrying at the age of eighteen, but none in their twenties. Just her. 

_Maybe… Maybe…_

Maybe they were long gone. 

She confided this to Yelena, seeking wise counsel and comfort. 

_“Maybe they died before I ever stepped foot in the woods. Struck down by a disease in their childhood. Maybe I’m calling out to a ghost. Forever singing to a spirit I can never touch. Married to no one but the woods themselves.”_

_“If that is the case, you may find comfort in the arms of someone who shares the same situation…”_ Yelena had offered, acknowledging the possibility, a soft hand on Honeymaren’s shoulder. _“That is, if you truly want to stop seeking in the woods…”_

Honeymaren didn’t want to stop. She would rather be that legend kids would talk about around campfires- the sad, poor woman, still singing in fragile old age, faithful to the soulmate she never got to give herself to, hoping that they would arrive before her death. Like the stories of old mythology, the woman who falls for an inhuman form.

Honeymaren didn’t want to admit to anyone else that she was afraid she would never find her partner, so she went out to the woods with a front of optimism, even when returning to camp alone. 

Some nights, like tonight, her mind thought maybe her soulmate couldn’t hear her song over the calls of the others during the day. She knew that probably wasn’t true- the magic of the woods made sure your soulmate heard you, making it easy to distinguish among the other calls, drawing you closer and closer to home, but she needed to tell herself _something_. 

Her homemade boots crunched the dry orange leaves beneath the weight of each step she took, entering the woods with a spear in hand. Normally, her father would go out for the early morning hunt, but she practically begged her family to let her go this time. She needed to clear her mind, but would still have breakfast covered before the sun started to peak over the horizon. 

Fog escaped her lips as she let a heavy exhale free. The moon was generous in aiding her, even among the fog, its bright light beaming through the multing tree branches, showing her where it was safe to continue to step. Leaves rustled with the gentle wind, the sounds of nature keeping Honeymaren’s heartbeat steady. 

She placed a mitted hand against the strong trunk of a tree beside her. 

_How many songs have these trees heard?_

Honeymaren scanned the terrain ahead of her with her eyes, from left to right. 

_What did the first sound like?_

Delicately, almost shyly, Honeymaren hummed her melody, barely rumbling in her chest. 

What were the odds of her running into her soulmate in the dead of night? 

She cleared her throat, making sure nothing would ruin her notes, then projected her voice with more power, more grace. She heard the melody flow in the empty space around her, echoing. It sent shivers to her bones. 

Louder this time, a longer hold of notes, a smoother transition between them.

It traveled so far, felt so magical to hear alone. It haunted her, and quite possibly, was even wooing to herself. Honeymaren could feel her heart swell with the power of her own music, the simplest of hums. Destined to be alone or not, there was something excitingly romantic about singing in the woods to someone long gone. 

_Oh, Old Gods_ , Honeymaren found herself closing her eyes in prayer, dropping to her knees gently, her spear cluttering to the hardening fall earth. _Oh, Old Gods. Bless me with just one glimpse, just one glance, of who was meant for me. Let their spirit visit me. In these woods, let me love. Let me kiss their phantom lips, just once. I can live a life of solitude, if that is your will, just let me have one day, one touch of love._

She sung out once more, her vocal chords trembling with spiritual emotion. 

Opening her eyes timidly, she scanned her surroundings again. Her heart dropped and she sighed. She didn’t know exactly what she expected, this was pointless. She was meant to be alone. 

Picking up her spear, Honeymaren began to trek forward, looking for any medium sized game she could encounter during these hours. Something big enough to feed her family, but manageable enough to drag back to camp herself. She came across a wandering fox that was sniffing an abandoned rabbit’s dens, and took its life as swiftly as she could, making sure it wouldn’t suffer. She skinned and cleaned it, placing everything of its body into the proper sections of her satchel. She shethed her hunting knife upon completion of her tasks, but instead of turning back around, she felt an odd pull further into the woods. 

The magnetism brought her curious feet to an altar, adorned with wildflowers and garnished with pelts and crude pieces of gems. A sturdy bundle of sage wrapped in twine sat upon a tin plate. 

Honeymaren stood before it, a hand on her hip and the other gripping her spear like a hiking stick. She wondered if she should bother with paying her respects, as she had just prayed not that long ago, but tradition pulled at her guilt, urging a sense of responsibility and respect. She knelt down once more, reaching in her pouch to pull out a flint kit, striking it with a few sparking knicks, setting the sage to smoke. The bundle was hearty, plumming thick curls of perfumed smoke into the air, bathing Honeymaren’s face whenever a gentle breeze carried past. 

Out of habit, Honeymaren sung her melody once more, singing to who she knew she would never have. She forgot all about the cold, forgot all about her reason for stepping into the woods, and stayed kneeled, lost in mediation. 

Until she heard a horse snort behind her. Honeymaren jolted to her feet, instinctively reaching for her spear, poising it in an offensive stance towards the beast and its rider. 

A woman she had never seen before sat in the saddle, her eyes stunned wide. Day-time blue with engulfing pupils, dilated from fear and lack of light. The woman had purely white hair, braided back, and her clothing was woven of a cornucopia of blue and gold. 

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Honeymaren asked. “It does not suit Arendalle well for you to enter Northuldra territory at night.” She gripped her spear tighter, making sure the stranger understood her intentions. “Wouldn’t you say it sends the wrong message?” 

“Please forgive me,” the woman began, pulling her horse’s reins up closer to her, forbidding the animal from taking any further steps. “I do not mean anything hostile, Northuldran. I have been on a quest for the past few days that has brought me into your lands. I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Would you be comfortable telling me your name? Let us be on friendly terms.”

Honeymaren smirked, “Queen, you say?” _How rich_ . “A queen who travels on her own, in the dead of the night? Into a land which her kingdom is on delicate terms with? Outlandish backstory for a spy. Where are your guards, _queen_?” 

“Spy?! No, please,” the supposed Queen Elsa urged, “I am who I say I am. I did not want to wake my party, as it is very early. How may I earn your trust?” 

“By leaving,” Honeymaren said without a beat. “It is my responsibility to keep my tribe safe, and I can’t do that if I fall for your guise and feed you information about these lands and its people.” 

The woman’s eyes were hosting a dance of troublesome worry behind them, her mind working with the suggestion. “If that’s what keeps the peace of our people…”

 _You mean the stalemate_ , Honeymaren corrected in her mind. 

“But before I leave, I just need to ask one question, please. May I ask it?”

“Is that not a question in itself? You’ve wasted your question, now leave. I’ve already given you more time than you should have been given,” Honeymaren grounded her feet firmer, ready to shoo the Arendellian away with the tip of her spear. 

“I have heard a song.” The woman said, her face firm with irritation. “I have heard it for years. I think it is coming from here. Why is that? Where is it coming from? I must know, and then I shall leave.” 

Honeymaren felt her mind black out. What did the woman ask? Something about a song?

“... A song?” Honeymaren found her voice, her eyes fixed on Elsa’s. 

“Yes,” The woman said, the energy about her relaxing at this slight cooperation from Honeymaren. “It goes like this…” she harmonized it perfectly, not missing one note. 

“You’re…” Honeymaren’s eyes were having trouble focusing, black spots peppering her vision, her head becoming heavy. 

“Can you help me figure out what it means?” Honeymaren could hear Elsa’s question, but it sounded at least fifty feet away. “I know your tribe still pays homage to the Old Gods and magic… is it something to do with that?” 

Honeymaren began to shake her head in denial, and couldn’t stop herself when she simply took off, bolting through the woods as Elsa shouted after her, confused. Honeymaren leapt over bulging tree roots and mischievously camouflaged rocks and small boulders as she escaped. 

_I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming_ , Honeymaren told herself. _I’m going to wake up any second now. I just need to wake up. Arendelle doesn’t respect magic, they don’t have soulmates anymore. Magic has abandoned them. This is definitely a dream._

“Wait!” Elsa’s voice shouted, far far away. Honeymaren knew she could outrun her- she grew up in these woods, and didn’t really need the light if she was being honest, she knew every step. This stranger on the other hand? Even on horseback would be too cautious to navigate through the woods fast enough to catch her.

Honeymaren could see her tribe’s camp not too far off, so close to exiting the woods. She jumped and skittered, her lungs struggling to take in larger deposits of air in this cold weather, her throat feeling hoarse just from breathing. 

_I’m close, I’m close-_ her foot landed on some damp moss, sabotaging her footing, and she fell backwards, smacking her head on a rock that was lodged deep in the ground. She grunted upon the immediate contact, and her vision cut out. She slipped into unconsciousness just as soon as her mind relieved itself in the thought of:

 _Thank the gods, I’ll wake up now…_


	2. There Can Only Be Peace If There Is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took half a year later lol
> 
> Elsa sings the song, and the women's destiny ripples in the water of the world.

Elsa knew what running away looked like, and as much as she wanted to run after the young woman, she knew it was best not to. Elsa also knew she didn't belong in these woods, the Northuldran was right. The queen felt as if the trees looked down upon her, and the wind swirled cautiously, aware of the stranger tracking deep inside the belly of the woods. 

But there was something about the woman she caught kneeling at the alter. Something was holding something back, Elsa knew it, saw it swimming in those deep dark eyes. The look of paralysis on her young face when she mentioned the song that haunted her for the past few years. It was such a beautiful tune, Elsa had to admit.

When she first heard it, she was passing by a conservatory, and assumed it was nothing more than a young protege warming up for a grand performance on the horizon. Her heart was pierced by the notes, moved. Then she heard it the next day at Court, her heart surging in her chest. Her mouth dropped whatever word she had intended on saying, her eyes searching the confused room for whoever was humming the delightful melody. 

_ Can no one hear that?  _ She had asked herself. Her subjects and advisors looked upon her, wonder and concern in all their eyes, waiting for her to continue. Elsa gathered herself quickly, fearing she was losing her mind- but it was better to have a breakdown in the privacy of her chambers instead of in front of her countrymen. And then she heard it every day after that, all in different locations and times and durations. Sometimes the melody sounded sorrowful and desperate, other days hopeful and light. It always made her yearn, yearn to be in someone's arms, yearn for someone to hold at night. Elsa couldn't actually believe she managed so many years with it playing into her ears, targeting her and only her. 

Elsa finally gave in when she first heard it at night, just a week ago. It was possibly the most beautiful rendition of the melody, echoing as Elsa looked out on her balcony, the streets below her empty and sapphire blue, the sound of water gently lapping on the docks joining in on the ambience. 

At first she thought she was going insane, but Elsa resorted to an open-minded approach, and knew that fear was speaking to her, and fear often spoke lies. She knew, in truth, she was simply experiencing something that she hadn’t yet. Easy fix: she would simply go out and fill the blanks. That was a part of life after all, encountering things that at first hand seem frightening and impossible, but in actuality, just take patience and acceptance to figure out.

She had publicly announced that she would be embarking on an autumn journey through the woods, sharpening her skills in hunting. She had prepared the hounds and guardsmen expert in tracking and navigating to maintain this front. The queen thought it was the most believable lie… and she felt horrible about having to lie, but it was the only thing she could do. What was she supposed to say: "I'm going off into the wild to follow a voice in my head, take care!"? Absolutely not. 

It was Elsa's intention to leave Anna in charge while she was off following the song, like a moth to a blazing candle's wick, but Anna seemed thrilled at a hunt, and did her usual insisting until Elsa had no choice but to let her join. An advisor was put in Anna's place at Court. 

Now, Elsa sat in her tent, chewing her lip absentmindedly, ignoring the candle dancing on her small wooden table, it’s shadows and copper light combating each other in the corner of her eye. She was thinking about the young woman at the shrine. Her fierce brown eyes, the light constellation of freckles on her nose, the fringe of her dark hair, the beginnings of a snarl on her lips. The woman was ready to hurt her if she said the wrong thing or made the wrong move, spear pointed ready, yet Elsa had found herself more taken by this display of power rather than be offended. 

Why wouldn't she answer her question about the song? She knew something, that was beyond a doubt. She was fighting the urge to return even now, but told herself this next night, she would enter the woods again, and this time, hum the song that she had tracked to these woods. Tracked to that woman, eyes closed in worship, surrounded by clouds of calming sage.

* * *

Honeymaren gasped sharply, her shoulders rising slightly off the bed as she came to. 

“You’re awake!” she heard a voice cheer. Ryder came into view as her eyes opened, the morning blur clearing up with each blink. “Thank goodness! We don’t know how long you were out there for! The snow started to fall with the sunrise, and when we realized you hadn’t come home yet with your hunt, we all got nervous. Found you right there, right by the edge of the woods and the camp clearing, almost completely dusted in the first layer of snowfall.” 

“The fox…” Honeymaren murmured, wincing as she sat up in the bed, which was composed of numerous heavy pelts.

“Found it in your satchel, not to worry.” Ryder winked. “Once I caught a pulse, I carried you home, and some of the other women came in to change your clothing. While that happened, I went through your bag. You’re not really one to come home empty handed, so I figured to not let your hunt go to waste. Want some?” He held out a bowl of stew. Honeymaren took it carefully, eyeing the contents swimming in the broth: carrots, onions, cabbage, and what she could only guess was fox meat. 

“Thank you,” She murmured, bringing the spoon before her lips, blowing gently. 

“So, did you just… fall?” Ryder asked, his hands falling to his side uselessly. 

Honeymaren withdrew all emotion from her face as she recalled the strange encounter last night. So it wasn’t a dream after all if her brother found her exactly where she fell in her memories. That would mean… the woman. The  _ queen _ had answered her call. How bizarre, how  _ unbelievable _ .

“Yes,” Honeymaren answered quietly, taking the spoon in her mouth. “Slipped on some damp moss, lost my footing.”

“In a rush to get home?”

“No, just lost my footing.” 

Ryder nodded awkwardly. “Okay, well, there’s a pouch of some herbs there to help you with any pain you might feel, since you hit your head. Bled a bit, but you should be fine with a day’s rest. No working for you today, Yelena has demanded it, so enjoy your rest.”

Just as he said it, Honeymaren could feel the throb at the back of her skull, warmth pooled at the center of the pain.  _ So be it _ , she knew bedrest and pain relieving roots were the best medicine for this kind of injury. Besides, she didn’t think she could work at her best ability either. She would only be thinking about last night anyw-

Honeymaren dropped the spoon in the bowl, broth splattering. 

“Are you okay?” Ryder asked, concerned as he knelt by his sister, reaching to take the bowl from her hands, but could not, as Honeymaren kept her hold tight.

_ The song! _

Elsa had just sung it. Just now. Just a few seconds ago. That melody that she cried out into the woods countlessly now came back to her, carried on the wind, surging her heartbeat with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. 

_ She’s in the woods! She’s- _

Honeymaren let her brother take the bowl, then quickly lifted the pelts off of her, getting herself out of the warm cocoon of a bed.

“Where are you going?” Ryder asked, a tickle of a laugh on his breath.

_ She’s in the woods, it’s not safe for her. I have to- _

“Honeymaren!” he then shouted. She turned to look at him. 

“Yes?”

“Where are you going? You’ve been ordered to stay in bed!”

“I don’t want t- I have to-”

“To bed!” Ryder urged encouragingly, with a brotherly smile, taking hold of one of her arms and leading her back to the pile of pelts. 

Reluctantly, Honeymaren slipped under the heavy coats.

“If I have to watch you all day to keep you from exerting yourself when you should be resting, then I will!” Ryder said, hands on his hips.

The song resonated again, piercing Honeymaren’s heart. No, completely impaling it, the spearhead of the notes shredding out to the other side. She took a deep breath, fighting a lovesick groan from vocalizing in her throat.

_ So this is what it feels like? _

Honeymaren had often wondered what bliss and excitement hearing a soulmate’s song might bring. Having seen so many people joyously run into each other’s arms upon finding each other, tracking one another through their song. She thought it felt good. Thought it felt like invincibility. But no, it was a pain. A  _ yearning _ , tightening and twisting in her heart each time Elsa repeated it from wherever she was in the forest. It pulled and tugged at her heart, as if Elsa had not only punctured her heart with her song, but practically harpooned it, tugging at the rope on her end, making Honeymaren want to get up and be dragged at her stumbling feet and the scrapping of her knees. She wanted to squirm, wither in bed at the longing.

Elsa sung again, the notes blooming in Honeymaren’s heart, her head becoming light like it did when she had too much deep red wine. She wanted to be put out of her misery, and her heart told her deliverance would come in the form of falling before Elsa’s feet. 

“Are you okay?” Ryder asked, noticing his sister’s distress. “You look flushed.”

“I’m fine,” Honeymaren replied on a whisp of a breath. “The air’s just too hot in here.”

“Oh, okay,” Ryder nodded, getting the hint. “I’ll step out for a bit, but I’ll be just outside if you need me, okay?” 

“Thanks,” Honeymaren replied, watching her brother leave. Once he was gone, Honeymaren let her mind cascade her with the memory of last night, every flickering frame jamming into her mind's eye for evaluation. 

The woman claimed to be queen of the nation her people had deemed untrustworthy, those with whom they would never engage with ever again until the other offered peace first. A warm shiver tingled Honeymaren's body as she entertained the truth for a split second: her soulmate, a queen, presented before her seated atop a magnificent white mare, postured forward and not side saddle. Despite their star crossed allegiances, Honeymaren was complimented by Nature's matchmaking. The queen seemed like a strong woman, one unafraid to speak her mind in front of her people and royal court. She wondered why she would be paired with someone outside her community, and just how exactly this Elsa was considered by the magic of the Old Gods. If Arendale had abandoned magic for years, how did it resurface in the fate of their Queen?

* * *

Honeymaren snuck out that night, the full moon shining through the passing clouds, pooling in with the midnight fog once more. She had planned on going back, nothing was really going to keep her curiosity at bay, especially now since Elsa had started singing again, pulling the rope that held Honeymaren's heart. It no longer caused pain, but a delicious incitement. She wanted Elsa to keep singing, to keep pulling her closer. 

Elsa called out to her again and again, daring her to come closer, and when she did, both women stared at each other, unsure what to do next. 

Honeymaren was supporting herself between two trees, one hand on the massive trunk of each, halted from stepping any further.

"What does it mean?" Elsa asked, breaking the silence, referring to their magnetism through song.

"What does it feel like?" Honeymaren replied. She didn't mean it in a curt way, as it may have seemed to a bystander, but the answer to Elsa's question was in her heart, and a part of the Northuldran still doubted that this queen was aligned to her fate. Just a little. 

"Well," the queen blushed, the pink hue barely visible in the passing moonlight. "Tortuous."

_ Tortuous.  _

That was the only way Honeymaren could describe it herself hours ago, but because she knew what it meant, she could transform the yearning into something hopeful, something exciting. Elsa couldn't, she was in the dark, heart stinging in fearful solitude. 

"Do I hurt you?" Honeymaren asked quietly, gently stepping forward from her barrier of trees, snow crunch beneath her weight. Elsa's intrigue piqued, a frostful brow raising as she watched the other woman come closer. "My song? Does it hurt? I never meant for that, I didn't know that's what it felt like. You never sang back until now."

"So it has been you who I have heard all this time?" Elsa asked. 

"Yes," Honeymaren replied, the answer soft on her lips. 

"How is that possible?"

"Magic." 

The queen almost seemed appalled, nose turned up at the thought. 

"How is that possible?" She repeated again. "There is no magic in Arendelle…"

"I know," Honeymaren agreed, still gently toned. "I do not have the answer you seek. I have wondered myself ever since finding you. But maybe we're not supposed to know the answer. The universe always gets what it wants, after all. Who is the human to learn all the world's secrets by the time their end is near?"

Elsa continued to eye her suspiciously, yet took no step back. "Does it affect you the same?" She then asked.

"Very much so," Honeymaren replied. "Very much."

"Everything…" the queen cleared her throat, her eyes quickly checking her peripherals as if she were afraid of witnesses. " _ Everything _ that I feel with it?"

"Like love?" Honeymaren changed the word to what Elsa was afraid of speaking. 

"Exactly," Elsa whispered sharply.

"Because it is," Honeymaren replied. She saw the look on the queen's face: disbelief, caution, but also, the desire  _ to believe.  _ So, the Northuldran explained everything- all the magic, all the spirits, the pantheon and destiny, and the most important thing of all: choice. She knew this was a lot to understand, and because of that, she wasn't going to demand Elsa's heart and affection, she just needed to know how long she would have to wait for an answer. She urged Elsa to go back to her castle, back to her royal bed and rest. Think it over, Honeymaren promised to not sing again if that was the case. Wait for Elsa to come back with a yes or no. 

The queen looked at her intently as the Northuldran explained everything and the offer to make up her mind. It  _ was _ all a lot, indeed, but Elsa knew she was a quick adapter, and only ever needed knowledge of a situation to figure out her plan of action. 

"It's okay if you decide not to accept, I would just prefer for you to tell me, so we can both go our separate ways. Please don't make me wait if you never intend to give me an answer, even if it is a no," Honeymaren pleaded gently, careful not to wake the slumbering nature hidden everywhere around the two women. 

The queen studied the other women's face warmly, reaching her decision before the Northuldran was done speaking.

"How is this supposed to be done?" She then said. 

Honeymaren's eyes widened with surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Well there is a ritual or routine to accompany this rite of passage, I am assuming?" Elsa concluded.

"Well, I- uh, we- we are supposed to simply find each other through the woods through song…" Honeymaren explained. "But we have already done that. Twice, to be exact." 

Elsa tilted her head and pursed her lips just a little in amusement. "Well yes, I just did not know that was what we were doing." 

"Are you saying…" Honeymaren's heart squeezed, tinged with hope and worry. It made her feel a little sick. 

"Go ahead," Elsa urged with a smile, "put some distance between us, let us find each other once more. Both of us aware of the intent this time."

"Do you mean...?" 

_ Is she accepting? _ Honeymaren's mind repeated the question in her mind. 

"Please don't do this to me," Honeymaren then found herself pleading, walking backwards from Elsa. She wanted to believe Elsa, but she knew that the option to be cruel was just as available to the queen as was the option to accept. "Don't send me further into the woods," Honeymaren continued creating space, but couldn't keep her eyes off of Elsa, who frowned softly at the plea. "Don't send me in with the intention of not finding me… don't get my hopes up…"

"I will not do that," Elsa urged, "I promise, we will find each other. I promise. When you feel you are far enough, call to me and I will call back. I promise." 

Honeymaren turned herself to face forward completely, picking up her pace now, becoming farther and farther away from Elsa, and soon, found herself in a desperate run like the night before, fear circulating through her veins. All she could think about was the possibility of being betrayed by Elsa, taken for a fool by the leader of Arendelle the Untrustworthy. Maybe if she ran fast enough, she'd escape the shame chasing her of being such a fool. 

When her throat felt raw and her chest couldn't taken in anymore, she bent over, hands resting on her knees. Her breath tried to catch rapidly, fog escaping her mouth quicker than she could blink. She knew she was a good distance away now, and felt a little weight of guilt. If Elsa was being genuine, the Queen would have a lot to trek, and she wasn't sure how athletic the royal was. 

And then, because she could not help herself, she took in a deep breath and sung. The melody was shaky from exertion, but beautiful still nonetheless. She could hear it echo as she became distracted by the millions of stars winking in the deep, deep night sky. 

It only took a few seconds for Elsa to respond, her reply a variation of Honeymaren's melody pulsing in the woods. The Northuldran's heart now beat with something wild within, all anxiety cleaned from her spirit. She called out again, quickly navigating through the woods in the direction of her soulmate. It seemed Elsa had moved from where Honeymaren had left her, the queen's song echoing from a different direction. 

The enchanted forest was now just an empty symphony hall for the two women, coming together by destiny through music, their songs pulling the other in, navigating the maze of snow covered trees. Owls watched through their heavy lidded golden eyes, the clouds parted to grant extra light, and the ancient magic in the air carried their melodies, breezing with light flakes of snow and crisp fall leaves in their wake. 

When the two women finally found each other, Honeymaren was still in the middle of her serenade, the notes becoming softer and lower as they came face to face, her song stopping abruptly as she fell to immediate temptation and crashed her lips against Elsa's. 

It was full of years' worth of longing, of pain, of solitude, combined with newly born hope and happiness. Honeymaren’s hands reached up to cradle Elsa's head, her fingertips lightly tingling across the skin of her neck. She deepened the kiss, breathing in nothing but the scent of Elsa's perfume of lavender when she needed air. It couldn't have been helped. 

When she pulled away, her body flush with the intoxication of love, her mind cleared quickly upon seeing Elsa's expression. 

"I'm- I'm so sorry!" Honeymaren started, shame burning her face. She just stole a kiss from a queen. "I shouldn't have, I'm so sorry, so sorry!" 

"Do not apologize," Elsa smiled comfortingly, her face warm. "I understand, it is alright." 

“So what now?” Honeymaren then asked, her cheeks still warm. “You can’t join my tribe and I can’t join your kingdom.”

Elsa nodded in understanding, this question no doubt wrecking her own mind too.

“I do not know,” she said honestly. “Perhaps the universe is tired of our feud, and brought us together as a symbol for change. A sign to renew the relations between our people.”

“But how?” Honeymaren asked quietly, resting her forehead against Elsa’s, her eyes fluttering closed with comfort. Her hands rested on Elsa’s shoulders for just a second, palming the thick fur pelt the queen had pinned over them.

“Halt!” The command shook both women apart, each one fearing their own people had found them. The fear was only true for Elsa, as Arendellian guards came through the trees, swords drawn. “Step away from the Queen!”

Without giving Honeymaren much chance to comply, a guard grabbed her by the arm, yanked her away from Elsa, and threw her to the ground. The Northuldran landed hard on her tailbone, her eyes squinting shut at the pain. 

“Stay down!” The guard growned, pointing the tip of his blade down at her throat. 

“It took us a while to find you, Your Grace. Glad we finally did! Just in time!” Shouted another guard. 

Years of tension uncoiled in Honeymaren’s muscles, triggered by an upbringing of being taught to defend herself against Arendelle. Her hand shot out and grabbed the shoulders wrist, gripping hard between his muscle and bone, causing him to drop the blade with a help. Just as quickly, Honeymaren picked up the weapon, poising it defensively.

“Stop!” Elsa had shouted to her guards. “Do not attack her!”

However, the guards’ ears were full of blood, pumping with the desire to fight, taking quick steps towards the Northuldran. Not being able to defend herself from all that enclosed her, Honeymaren did what she could to parry the quick blows from the guards, yet one was able to land a fist against her mouth, slitting her bottom lip. 

“I said stop!” Elsa roared this time, her command voice coming into power. The soldiers seized, frozen from the fear of their queen’s station. “Why do you act against my order?”

Honeymaren raised the back of her hand to her mouth, applying pressure to the throbbing and hot epicenter of her wounded lip. She could feel the warm blood fill the crease between her hand and mouth, trying not to focus on the metal taste tickling her tongue. She wanted to fight back, to take years of social conditioning out on these soldiers the way they had done on her, but she pressed all that down within her, remembering Elsa’s words. What if the universe really was using them as a tool to bring the two together? Even so, Elsa was clearly put off by a fight, and clashing with her assailants would only make her newfound soulmate furious with her too.

“Answer me!” Elsa demanded, her brows creasing in anger. 

“The Northuldran,” answered one of the guards. “She was too close to you, Your Grace. From our viewpoint, it seemed she had you hostage.”

Elsa’s cheeks hollowed in on themselves as she grimaced in annoyance. “How is that? Hostage?”

“She placed her hands on you, Your Grace,” the man continued, head hanging low to avoid her eyes. “No one is allowed to touch the queen. Forgive us, but when we see our enemy, the Northuldra, we cannot take any chances.”

“Do you believe she was attacking me?” Elsa asked quietly then, with only the distant howling wind following her. 

Honeymaren watched the soldier’s eyes shift and his face tint. He didn’t think Honeymaren was attacking his queen. No. In fact, Honeymaren was confident he had seen enough to know there was no danger in her proximity to the queen.  _ That’s _ what triggered his need to ‘defend’ his queen: her closeness.

“The integrity of Arendelle…” he cleared his throat. “It wouldn’t do well for your hold on the citizens if they knew you made… a friend… who was Northuldran…” 

Elsa blushed, but raised her head in vigorous pride. “So no threat to me, you say? You attacked this woman with the front of protecting my physical safety, when all along, it was because you simply did not like to see me with her.  _ Her kind _ , for that matter.”

The soldier’s lips pursed, holding back whatever comment he could have gotten away with had this been between peers, but not towards his queen. 

“Forgive me, Your Grace…”

“Do you not believe that your Queen knows what is best for her? That she is capable of knowing who she can trust and who she cannot?” Elsa seemed to tower over the man as she questioned him, her eyes cast down as he stayed on his knee.

“I  _ do _ believe, Your Grace…”

“And do you not believe,” Elsa continued, “That your Queen has the power to understand her people and to have them understand her?”

“I  _ do _ , Your Grace…”

“Then why have you not shown this? This faith you claim to have in me?”

“It’s… they won’t allow it, Your Grace. The people…”

“People like you?” Elsa interrupted. “People who like having someone to hate? Someone to fight without being questioned? I will tell you right now, soldier of mine, that there shall not be any citizen under my rule who denies the path I take for our kingdom. From this day forth, Arendelle will reforge relations with Northuldra. There shall be no more war, no more danger, no more hate between us, and should you or any citizen of Arendelle prefer the drunkenness of hatred over the relief of peace… that will show their true colors. A true patriot wishes to see their nation at peace, not  _ having fun _ with war.” 

The soldier and his companions were silent, taking in the Queen’s words. None spoke after that. 

Having sensed that she had complete power over the situation, Elsa now moved over to Honeymaren to inspect her wound with gingerly care. Honeymare let her, her own brown eyes watching the worry in those blue ones that studied her lip. 

“Let me take you to my tent for medical care,” Elsa offered quietly, her eyes still gazing at the bloody and swollen lip. 

“No,” Honeymaren rejected kindly, “I must return to my camp. I know what you just said, but if I go with you now, there will only be more hesitation among your people. I’m weary they won’t give me proper treatment, even under your supervision.” 

Elsa frowned, knowing this to be the sad truth.

“Go talk to your people,” Honeymaren said, holding both Elsa’s hands in hers, cupping the Queen’s fingers to keep them warm, “and I shall talk to mine. When they had made peace with the future of our communities, with  _ us _ , we shall return to this forest and sing to each other. I know it will take time, but I’m willing to fight for this. I will work hard, and I know you will too.”

Elsa nodded, hope resurfacing in her eyes, even though the task ahead of them was going to be a long hard road. Then, Honeymaren let go of her hands gently, and began to backtrack into the woods. 

“Until then,” she said, watching Elsa smile faintly. “I yearn to hear your melody again.” 

* * *

Both women did what they set out to do, bringing the news to their people, of peace and love. Each community reflected what the soldier in the forest had anticipated: some were for it, but many were against it, having spent too much of their lives hating the other to be relieved at change, only frustrated at not having the satisfaction of winning. Yet that did not stop the women from trying continuously, working day and night to bring their communities together. 

Change could no longer be denied or undermined anymore when Elsa made her first diplomatic trip to Northuldra. Those present for the event could feel the power of this new chapter starting, and were now thrilled. 

At the breaking of a day, the copper sun cresting the horizon, both communities joined in the woods, as was Northuldran custom, to watch both women place their hands over each others’, crowned in spring flower wreaths, standing before an altar of the Old Gods, plumes of incense wafting the air and gold and jeweled tributes cascading over the stone slabs. 

They signified their own union as soulmates, now sighted before the spirits of the forest and the souls of humankind, but also the union between their lands, whose soulmate was not the other, but mutual peace.


End file.
